


In a Dream

by suallenparker



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Philinda - Freeform, Phone Sex, Smut, always on top, hot stuff challenge, philinda hot stuff, tender love making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:59:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1845187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suallenparker/pseuds/suallenparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melinda and Phil discuss dreams during a phone call late at night. - Or the one in which she calls him back once and hangs up on him twice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Dream

Calling Melinda might be the stupidest thing he has done since Tuesday when she had almost caught him staring at her during lunch. Phil switches on the lamp on his night stand and reaches for his cell as he sits up. Stupid, stupid, stupid. His heart pounds and his whole body is tense. He’s still panting. He woke up screaming and he wants to hear her voice. He needs to hear her voice. Just some proof that she’s still there, in the room next to his, breathing. Alive. He has her on speed dial. Skye programmed all the team-members’ numbers into each cell. It rings, once, twice. He could hang up, stop this now. He still could –

She picks up, “Yes?”

Gosh, thank you, thank you, thank you. His racing heart slows down a little. It was just a dream. She’s still here. Thank you.

He closes his eyes. What the hell is he even doing? Damn, he’s an idiot. He wants to hear her say something else.

“Am I interrupting?” he asks. So, so stupid. Next time he calls her in a panic, he needs a better explanation to do so.

“It’s after midnight, Phil,” she says slowly. He loves how she says his first name. He’s sure she’s already annoyed with this call, with him. He’s such an idiot.

“You’re right.” He presses his lips together. He should hang up now, he’s bothering her. “Sleep well, May.”

He ends the call and buries his face in his hand. Definitely the stupidest thing he did since Tuesday.

  
  


o0o

  
  


What the hell?

Melinda blinks at her cell. He just hung up. Just like that! Something’s wrong. He sounded … He was breathless. And he sounded anxious. Something is definitely wrong.

She puts the crime novel she was reading before on her nightstand with her left hand and dials his number with her right. Speed dial is a wonderful thing.

It rings. Once, twice … six times. If he doesn’t pick up by the seventh, she’ll go over there and check on him in person. But there’s the click.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just …” He sighs.

“Do you want me to come over?” She wants him to say yes. She wants to go over to him, she wants to see him.

“Won’t be necessary,” he says quickly.

“Phil.” Something’s wrong. She wants to touch him, too. Just his arm. Just really quick.

“I’m fine,” he says quietly. “I just …” He sighs again. “It’s silly.” She hears the smile in his voice but she knows it’s fake.

She swings her legs out of the bed. “I’m coming over.” She’s already wearing her pajamas consisting of a big, black t-shirt and black panties, but that doesn’t matter.

“No, please …” He swallows. “I had a bad dream, that’s all. I wanted to hear your voice and so … I called.”

Her heart skips a beat at that. She’s sure he doesn’t mean it as romantic as she wishes to interpret it. Still, he wanted to hear her voice. Hers.

“I’m fine now, really,” he adds.

He sounds better. Embarrassed, maybe, but not anxious anymore. She doesn’t want to hang up now. And she wants to be there for him, to be his friend.

“Tell me,” she says. Usually he allows her to be his friend, his confidant.

“I killed you,” he replies quickly. Then he takes a breath. “In my dream, I killed you.”

She can relate. In her dreams, she’s the reason for his demise quite often. Fury wants her here with Phil not only to protect him, but also to protect the world from Phil, if necessary, she has no illusions about that. She pulls her legs up and settles into the lotus position.

“I just had to check if you’re still here,” he adds.

She closes her eyes for a moment. “I’m still here.” She’ll stay as long as he wants her to. She hears some rustling, blanket, possibly. He’s in his bed too, she’s sure of that. She imagines him wearing sweatpants and a washed out Captain America shirt. She gave him that shirt a few years ago for his birthday. She knows it’s washed out by now, she saw him wear it on the bus. She likes him wearing that shirt.

“Are you tired?” he asks.

Yes. Yes, she is. She moves back until she can lean against the headboard of the bed. “I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither.” He sounds exhausted. “Well, I did and then …” He doesn’t finish.

“I’m having nightmares, too.”

“About me killing you?”

“No.” She swallows. “If that’s any consolation to you, you could never take me out.”

“That helps, thanks.” This time the smile in his voice is real. It makes her smile, too.

“So …” he says. “Since I told you mine, will you tell me yours?”

“Too many to list.”

“Do you want me to come over?” He’s still smiling, but she knows he means it. If she’d say so, he’d come over. He’d be there for her. He always is. Sometimes that scares her, sometimes it gives her hope.

Tonight she’s scared of what she wants.

“No,” she says. What she wants is for him to come over, get into her bed and hold her. She wants him to love her.

“Okay.” There’s more rustling. He sighs. “I could tell you something nice. A good dream.”

He’s so sweet. Such a dork, too. She loves him.

“Still there?” he asks. He sounds timid.

She smiles and leans her head against the wall. “What kind of good dream?”

“Maybe one with bunnies …”

“No bunnies.” Bunnies are evil garden-destroying beasts. They look cute but she couldn’t forgive them for eating her crocus every spring.

“Puppies?” He’s grinning.

“No.” She wishes, she could see him. She wishes she could touch his face. In her good dreams, she’s with him.

“Cats?”

She’s silent.

“No animals then.” He sighs.

“Maybe the dream could be …”, she tries, “maybe we could be …” She presses her lips together. That’s why she usually stays quiet. Can’t talk bullshit with your mouth closed. Damn.

“Be what?” he asks.

She swallows. “Happy.” That’s what she wants. The both of them, together, happy.

“We could be in that house,” he says. “The one in Nevada?”

She remembers. Their mission before Bahrain. “That was a nice house.” Small, with red painted wooden panels on the outside. They had stayed there for a week, pretending to be a married couple while they had observed the couple next to them, whose were suspected of running a money laundry ring.

“We’d be gardening.”

“I could show you how to plant tulips.”

“You could’ve just told me the last time which side is up!”

He had planted about ten of the bulbs upside down, before she had noticed. “Thought that was obvious.” They had to did them up and turn them all. She smiles. “What else do we do?”

“We’d be reading. We’d have two of those wooden sun loungers and we could lay beneath that tree -”

“The lilac,” she says. As smart as he is, he can’t keep names of plants in his head. He can tell a rose apart from a lily or a tulip, but that’s it. She loves that about him too.

“Yes, the lilac.” More rustling. He’s probably nodding. “And we’d just read or watch the sky.”

She slides down until she’s lying down. Her head comes to rest on a soft pillow. When she closes her eyes, she can see blue sky. In her mind, she can smell the lilac too. “That’s nice.”

“Yes.”

She can picture it perfectly. Just them in their little garden. For her it’s just them. But she has to ask, “Who else is there?”

“Just the two of us.” His answer comes without hesitation.

“Just the two of us?” Her heart skips a beat. It’s just them for him too.

He takes a breath. “There could be–“ He sounds a little guilty, like he did something wrong.

“Just the two of us is fine,” she says. More than just fine. She loves him so much. “Sometimes I dream we’re in Lola, just driving.”

“Driving to where?”

“Away.” She doesn’t really care. In her dream, they’re free. They’re not on the run. They’re not hunting anybody. There’s no mission. Just them. They’d listen to music as they’d pass by landscapes. She imagines wide spaces. They could drive alongside the coast. She loves seeing the ocean. He’d drive and she’d sit next to him. She’d watch his hands on the steering wheel. Whenever he’d reach over to change gears, she’d want him to reach over for her. Eventually she’d make him park on the sideways, so she could kiss him and undress him and …

“Sometimes I wish, we could do that, too.” Phil sighs. “But we won’t.”

“No, we won’t.” She swallows. Of course they won’t. She’s his friend. That must be enough. And they have a mission. She almost believes as much in SHIELD as she believes in Phil. They’re doing good here. It’s necessary. It’s important.

“Do you ever dream of a normal life?”

“Yes.” She doesn’t have to ask, she knows he does too. Audrey… She swallows. She doesn’t want to think about Audrey now. She just wants to be here, in this moment in her bed with Phil at the other end of the line.

“What does that dream life look like?” he asks.

She could tell him it’s none of his business. She could tell him she’s too tired, but hearing his voice is just too nice. “I’d have a house,” she says. “A home. A garden.”

“Yes, I can see that.” There’s the smile in his voice again. “Someone there with you?”

He is. She can’t tell him that. “Someone I love. Someone who knows me, whom I trust.”

“Do they love you?”

“In my dreams, he does.” She doesn’t allow herself that dream very often. It feels like betrayal. She wishes she could be satisfied with what he’s willing to give. She wishes she could love him just a little different.

“Do I know him?” he asks and sounds tense. He exhales. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “I’m tired. Forget I asked.”

“It’s you,” she mumbles.

He gasps. She touches her forehead and presses her eyes shut. Damn.

“Goodnight, Phil,” she manages to get out, before she hangs up. Silence is golden for a reason. What had she done?

  
  


o0o

His heart is racing again, this time because he’s excited. Overwhelmed and exited and happy and slightly doubting his own hearing. Mostly excited.

He’s pretty sure Melinda May just told him she loves him. Kind of told him. Sorta.

His hands shake and he has to hold his cell with both hands as he dials her number again. He sits straight up in his bed. If she doesn’t answer, he’ll go over there, but he has to talk to her first. If he’d go over there now, he wouldn’t get a word out. He’d just kiss her and thus far he isn’t sure if she’d want him to. There different kinds of love and they’re friends. But he wants to kiss her. He wants to make love to her. He wants all of it. Everything. It feels forever until she picks up.

“Did you mean that?” he asks.

“It’s late, Phil. Please …”

“Did you _mean_ that?”

“Yes.” She says it quietly but he can hear her. Good. God. Thank you. She meant it.

“I have another dream,” he says. Words fall out of his mouth and he can’t stop.

“What?”

“Another dream.” He’s rushing this. “About us. It’s night and quiet and dark, but the stars are shining and you’re humming and we’re dancing. And you kiss me. In my dreams you’d always kiss me first because that eliminates the you-pushing-me-away scenario that my mind would otherwise start. So you kiss me.” He has to take a breath.

On the other end of the line is just silence. Did she hang up?

This is more stressful than fighting his way through Hydra lines. At least then she’s always by his side. He’s not sure where they are at now. He wants it to be love. He wants to kiss her. He wants to wake up next to her. He doesn’t want to spend a day without her.

“Still there?” he asks.

“What happens next?” she asks quietly.

His heart skips another beat. She’s still there. She’s not rejecting the idea of kissing him. This is real. He clears his throat. “We stop dancing. We haven’t been dancing before, really, just swaying to your music. I love touching you. We kiss. It’s slow.” He’d move his lips against hers. “Everything moves slowly like time isn’t real.” He’s convinced that time will stop once they kiss. “I still hold your right hand to my chest, your left hand moves from my shoulder to my nape.”

“Yes.”

Oh God, her voice. She sounds husky.

“I want to know how you taste,” he says. “I’d run my left hand through your hair. I’d brush it out of your face first, then cup the back of your head to hold you to me while I kiss you.”

She’s humming. He made Melinda May hum. Oh God. His cock twitches. He wants her to make that sound again. He wants to press his mouth to her throat when she does.

“I pull you close against me with my arm around your waist,” he says. He’d run his hand over her wonderful ass. He’d rub his hips against hers. He licks his lips. “You sigh.”

“Phil …”

“Just like that.” Yes, love. Just like that. He’s getting hard. “I want to kiss your ears, your throat, your shoulders. I could kiss you all night.”

“More, please. I need …” she moans.

Everything. He’d give her everything. He tightens his grip around the cell. He wants to touch her. so badly. He brushes his left hand over his covered erection. He wants her naked.

“We’d undress –“

“What are we wearing?” she interrupts him.

“I’m wearing one of my suits,” he says. He’s breathless. He’s so hard. “I take off your SHIELD jacket first, then I’d kiss your arms and shoulders. You’ve got lovely arms. I take off my shirt. My jacket and my tie are already hanging over a chair.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I take off your shirt. Button by button.”

“Melinda …” She’s killing him! He presses his palm against his erection.

“I want to run my hands over your chest,” she whispers. “I want to kiss your scar.”

That’s wrong. He closes his eyes. “It’s ugly, you don’t have–“

“It’s not ugly.” She has determination in her voice. And tenderness too. He loves her so much. “Ever since I told you to unbutton your shirt, I want to,” she adds. “I need to feel you.”

“I want you so much,” he breathes.

“You do?” She sounds hesitant.

He laughs shortly. “Yes. I’m so hard for you right now, I want –“ to make love to her, to fuck her. He wants to watch her face when she comes. He rubs his cock again. He wonders if she’s as turned on as he is. He wonders if she’s wet for him and how she tastes between her legs.

“Tell me,” she rasps.

“You,” he pants, “naked, above me, riding me.” Gosh, yeah. He’d hold her hips or massage her breasts. He’d suck on her nipples. Sometimes he just imagines how he’d lie there, watching her, watching himself gliding in and out of her. She’d touch herself, rub her clit. He wants that. “You’re so beautiful, Melinda. I need you, I …” There’s a click and then there’s silence.

She hung up. And he’s so desperate for her it’s ridiculous. What happened?

  
  


o0o

  
  


It took her a minute to get the condom out of her nightstand. Her hands were trembling. They still are as she scurries over the dark hotel floor to Phil’s room. She didn’t bother with shoes or pants. She’s too eager, and frankly she plans on being fully naked in just a bit. She’s wet for him. His voice got her so worked up, his whole body will be even better, she’s sure. Still, he could whisper sweet nothings into her ear while he’d be pounding into her. She’d really appreciate that.

She knocks at his door and fortunately he’s quick to open up. His face is flushed. She needs him inside of her. Her whole body is tingling with need for him. He’s wearing a plain dark green shirt, but she had been right about the sweatpants. Doesn’t matter. She plans on having him naked too. He’s hard for her. She smiles.

Suddenly there’s time again. He cradles her face, she presses the hand with the condom against his chest, she places her other hand on his shoulder. He smiles too. When she tiptoes, he leans down and tilts his head. They kiss and it’s everything he promised her. Soft, tender, slow.

His tongue slips into her mouth and her patience snaps. With a groan, she presses her hips against his. She can feel his erection against her bare thigh. He needs to lose his clothes now. She breaks away from his mouth and grabs the hem of his shirt.

“We, slow …” he interjects.

She pulls up his shirt. “Next time.” There’ll definitely be a next time. Once won’t be enough.

He lifts his arms and she drops the shirt. She wants to kiss his collar bones, his throat, his shoulders, his scar. She touches the damaged tissue and gasps, when he grabs her hips and pulls her against him. He leans down and licks her throat.

“Next time,” he whispers.

Gosh, yes! Together they move towards the bed and rid each other of their left over clothes. She pushes him backwards and he falls on the bed with a laugh. She straddles his legs and he groans. Her fingers tremble still as she slips the condom over his cock, but she manages. They both groan when she guides him inside of her. She sinks down on him swiftly. Next time they can take it slow. Now she needs him hard.

He strokes her hips, her ass, her thighs as she rides him. He feels so good. His hands feels so good. His cock fills her up. She presses her palms against his chest and throws her head back while she picks up the pace. He’s bucking against her, moaning her name. It’s perfect.

She tilts her hips and her clitoris brushes against against his pubic bone with every movement they make together. It’s bliss.

“Look at me,” he gasps.

Her eyes are closed, she hasn’t even noticed. She opens them and it’s worth it, because he’s looking right back at her. He’s so focused on her. He smiles as their gazes meet and bucks up again.

Oh gosh. Her eyes widen as she comes. He pulls her down for a kiss, but she’s pretty useless, she just gasps as pleasure riffles through her. He doesn’t seem to mind. He presses his open mouth against her shoulder as he comes too.

Eventually she rolls off him. He takes care of the used condom and throws it in the trashcan next to the bed. then he pulls the covers over the both of them and they nestle against each other.

He yawns. She kisses his throat and reaches over him to switch off the lights.

She’s sure they’ll have the sweetest of dreams now.


End file.
